I’m lost in a fairy tale, like Rapunzel, locked away at the top of tower with long, blond hair for her love to climb and rescue her.
Except I’m not locked in my attic room – I’m loving it. I don’t have long, beautiful blond hair – I have a tangled mass of golden brown curls. I am not interested in having the love of my life rescue me – I don’t need saving right now. I also am not interested in watching a man scale the side of the house – I fear that would give me way too many insecurities at night and I’d fear for his safety in the process.
I do, however, need a hair cut.
1 comment:
every search i've done on andrew gow brings me to sites about that book and nothing else. so i'm going to have to guess it's fiction. and i think your hair is nice. i miss both you and france, i hope things are well with the new guests!
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